


Goddess of Hearth

by maaeve



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21622189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaeve/pseuds/maaeve
Summary: Cassian knew his place in society; a soldier to be worn out by endless wars possibly coming to his demise far away from his own sands. It was a much different fate than the priestess, a life of devotion, awarded with the rest of her days in wealth and leisure. Within a few years she’d be married to a high nobleman, maybe even a senator. Her fate consists of titles and ranks Cassian couldn’t ever reach, a future he couldn’t promise.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 23
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

Cassian loved to sit on the coarse shore and watch the gentle waves crash onto the white hot sands. When he was younger, his mother would walk with him to the shore and laugh as the water rose up to tickle their ankles. He could almost hear her vibrant laugh trickle over the sea. Even when he was sent to foreign soils for the imperial empire, he would dream of his homely shores. 

Besides the crystal blues of the sea, there was another holy place for him. The Vestal Temple was just beyond the horizon of his cottage, looming over the shore. Between the carved dolomite columns and within its arched opening was an altar with an eternal flame to the Goddess Vesta. It shines with fierce luminosity that every night Cassian could see the hue of the flame’s blaze over the horizon. 

The temple was housed by only one priestess sent straight from Rome upon its construction a few years ago. Cassian loved to see her golden-brown hair glow in the altars fire pit, her slender neck luminescent in its orange hue. She moved with such grace, her silk tunic fitted to her beautiful curves with every movement. Her head was always held high and her back in the stiffest regard, but it made her look powerful and all-knowing. Walking past the temple, Cassian always hoped to catch a glimpse of her lighting the altar fire or praying. On the rare occasions she caught him staring, she’d send a glare that would send bolts of lightning through his chest. She was devoted to the goddess of hearth and her temple, there was no one to come between them. Still he longed to feel her presence nearby, as if he could feel an invisible pull between them making it impossible to stay away.

But Cassian knew his place in society; a soldier to be worn out by endless wars possibly coming to his demise far away from his own sands. It was a much different fate than the priestess, a life of devotion, awarded with the rest of her days in wealth and leisure. Within a few years she’d be married to a high nobleman, maybe even a senator. Her fate consists of titles and ranks Cassian couldn’t ever reach, a future he couldn’t promise.

~

Cassian caught the priestess one day carrying various things to the altar, her arms buckling slightly under all the weight. When a silver tray fell out of her grasp, Cassian stepped in to pick it up for her.

Hazel eyes were met with a sharp blues as she glared at him, “Now it’s tainted, only vestal virgins can touch these sacred items.” He flinched slightly at her harsh tone, but drew energy from her intense gaze. She was eyeing his attire, still adorned in his steel chest plate from training, his hair stuck to his face as he was drenched in sweat. He could feel the heat along the path where her eyes lingered.

Cassian threw on his most charming smile, ”Sorry, I just didn’t want you to tumble with you struggling to carry all this silverware-”

She interrupted, eyes narrowing “ _ sacred _ silverware”

Clearing his throat, “ _ sacred _ silverware, when I could help.” He held out his arms, so he could take the load off her arms. However her icy glare intensified, adjusting her grip on the silverware within one hand and swiftly swiped the plate from Cassian’s grip. Their fingers skimmed just enough for him to feel a chill. He watched as she walked faster into the temple. Cassian smirked, he expected nothing less.

~

The next time Cassian saw her she was in the nearby gardens examining the flowers and picking herbs.

Cassian liked to lay under the long shade of the cypress trees and relax after a long day of training. She didn’t notice him at first, which he took as an opportunity to lazily eye her enchanting appearance. Delicate fingers worked to remove herbs and bring them up to her nose to take in their fragrance. Her long hair flowed down her back, long tresses of brown hair shone when the light struck them. She was barefoot, her small feet on tiptoes to reach mulberries dangling above her.

“Need help?” he asked sitting up.

He watched as she looked behind, her blue eyes piercing with a deadly glare. “No.” she gritted out, but her ventures failed to get the dangling mulberries.

Cassian tried not to rolled his eyes and strode towards the tree in long steps settling beside her, close enough to take in her sweet honey scent. He smirked as he simply reached up and grabbed a handful of black mulberries, ripe enough to be sweet. He popped one into his mouth, moaning at the flavor. “If only I had someone to share these with..” he said teasingly.

She only scoffed and held out her hand in a demanding manner, “Give me those, those are fruit harvested by Vestal Virgins and should be eaten by them only.” Cassian nodded but didn’t give in to her demands and ate another berry. She glared at him, the look from up close was as piercing from afar.

But then her eyes flickered to the deep gash on his arm, a wound he had gotten from an aggressive training session the other day. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t. Instead she rummaged through a sack she was carrying around and pulled out a clear vial containing a green liquid. She cleared her throat, “This is an ancient salve made from herbs of the Eastern Plains,” Cassian took another berry into his mouth, eyeing the vial. She continued, “I’ll give you this salve for your wound, if you give me the berries in return.” 

Cassian raised his eyebrows, “How do I know it works?”

She narrowed her eyes and set down her sack. popping open the vial and gestured for him to come closer. He was a bit hesitant but inclined his head towards her. 

Letting a drop fall onto her fingertip, she reached for Cassian’s cheekbone. There was a fresh small cut there from this morning’s training session. She took his chin by the tips of her fingers, leaning a breath’s apart from his face. Cassian’s eyes darted to her slightly parted lips, they were plump and had a slight tint of pink. He swallowed as he slid his eyes back to her light blue eyes and then noticed her cheeks were slightly pink. Before he could say anything, her grip on his chin tightened and turned it swiftly to the right. He focused on steadying his breathing as she dabbed her salve laced fingertip on his cheekbone. There was a slight twinge, and then nothing at all. Her hands slid from his face, the warmth she exuded slipped away as she stepped back.

Cassian reached for the small cut on his cheekbone, but he felt nothing there. 

“Do we have a deal now?” she asked impatiently.

He grinned as he walked towards her, her back straightening once more along with her glare back on her delicate features. Reaching for more berries above her, he gathered the sweetest ones he could find and offered them to her. “Yes priestess, we have a deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cassian arrived at the training camp by dawn just on the outskirts of town. He grunted as he strapped up his sandals and adorned himself with armor. He ignored the looks other soldiers gave him, even though he outranked most of the men in the camp. Any sneering words they said towards him were behind his back or were bit back. There was a time Cassian cared about what they thought, but now he knew that the only thing that mattered was his skillset, training was everything to him. And today he was ready for the training he’s missed the past week trying to recover from the gash.

But now the gash on his left arm… it was not the disgusting purple as it was before. No more was there a numbness that he feared was the start of an infection. Instead, the gash quickly closed overnight, a scar will linger but at least he could move his arm as he did before. 

What was in this salve the priestess gave him? He’s never seen such a wound heal that quickly. He thought about the small cut on his cheek and how it just disappeared with a drop. Cassian didn’t let his thoughts linger on how nimble and soft her fingers were or how plump her lips looked or how she looked like a goddess under the sunlight. 

“Did you go to a healer yesterday?” Rhysand asked stopping any other thoughts of the priestess, He approached him adorned in shining armor and carrying a sword whose pummel adorned his family’s jewel. Cassian only knew that Rhysand’s family dealt in the spice trading throughout Arabia, awarding them comfortable riches and status in the Empire. But their years together in the legion have solidified their comradery to the equal of kinship. 

“Uh, yeah.. they gave me a salve to stop any kind of infection.” Cassian half-lied. If he told Rhysand the priestess gave him a salve for _mulberries_ he would have laughed in his face. 

Rhysand kept staring at his almost fully healed wound, “Remind me to approach whichever healer you did.” Cassian threw a smirk in his direction and picked up his own sword whose pummel had no jewels but carried him through enough battlefields. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna need them after we spar today.” 

* * *

By morning Nesta woke to the glaring sun through the tiny window in her bedroom. The silence of the temple allowed her to hear the waves crashing on the shore. Despite being an early riser, Nesta hated getting up. She took comfort in her bed and, if only she could, would stay alone in her soft silk sheets. 

But there was work to be done. She got out of bed and slipped on her usual ceremonial tunic. She brushed out her hair and braided it tightly to put it up in a bun. Her white thin veil was secured tightly with a headband.

Her footsteps were light as she was taught in her many years of training. The altar was always the first to be checked. Upon arrival the blaze was still lit, the crackling of the fire echoed off the walls of the temple. Underneath Nesta could see the wood lighting the flame start to dwindle. In a hurry, Nesta went to the kitchens where a pile of dry wood laid and hauled it back to the altar. She placed a few in the pile. Then Nesta threw in some dry leaves to keep the fire kindling until the wood was caught aflame. Stepping back she watched the fire grow and strengthen. 

“What a marvelous flame, Nesta.” 

Nesta’s head snapped towards the voice. There stood the high priestess of the Vestal Virgins. Her white tunic flowed in the morning breeze while the sun reflected the golden headband containing her beautiful auburn locks. 

Immediately Nesta bowed in her presence, “High Priestess, what an honor for you to visit.”

The slender woman walked towards her with mastered grace, her hands behind her back.“Ease up Nesta, think of this as a friendly visit.” As Nesta rose, she saw the reassuring smile on the High Priestess’ face. She then unveiled a small box shimmering in gold. Nesta’s heart lurched. 

The priestess’ eyebrows rose at the blanching look in Nesta’s face, “Don’t look too excited.” 

“I don’t understand... I thought my services still required a few more years.” Nesta tried to steady her voice. 

The priestess sighed and just waved her off, “This is from a rising senator… whose father happens to be the emperor.” The last words were in a firmer tone. As she stepped closer, Nesta had to restrain herself from moving back but the priestess pushed the box into her hands.

“Open it.” 

Everything in Nesta’s head was screaming to throw it into the fire. But the priestess was right in front of her, eager to see what’s inside. Nesta swallowed as she gripped the box. She lifted the top to uncover a small piece of jewelry, a silver armband with golden linings that resembled olive branches. 

“Oh, look how beautiful that is!” The priestess proclaimed as Nesta held it up. Nesta thought the armband felt as heavy as chains. “It’s very… shiny.” Nesta wasn’t lying as the small jewel reflected the flame in every angle. The high priestess chuckled, “That's how you know it’s real.” Nesta said nothing to this only stating at the jewel. 

“Well… go on and try it on.” Nesta knew that was more than a suggestion. So she swallowed and tried to muster excitement in her face as she fit the armband over her hand and shifted it to her upper arm. Although a bit loose, Nesta couldn't help the feeling of it tightening every second it was on her. 

“The emperor’s son? Eris?” She asked the high priestess who assured her with a nod. 

“He specifically asked for you, said he was enchanted from your last meeting.” Nesta almost laughed just to keep her fists from balling. Eris took apart in her last blessing ritual in Rome. He brought her a whole lamb for sacrifice, But when he brought the animal up to the flame, built by Nesta, the fire burst spontaneously and singed off a nice portion of his eyebrows. After months of bargaining, the High Priestess managed to have Nesta relocated to the coast instead of an open burial. But it still felt like exile, every day waking up alone, without her sistren who she would never see again until her services retire. And now…

“Why?” She asked. The armband felt so heavy now. She didn’t want the answer, but she had to know.

The High Priestess only grinned. “He wants your hand in marriage.”


	3. Chapter 3

Nesta could feel the heat of the fire more than ever. It felt almost as if she would reach the flames for their comfort. 

_Marriage._

To _Eris._

“Nesta,” The high priestess’ tone was low, her eyes were darker than before. “There is no choice here. As a Vestal Virgin, you are beyond blessed than any other woman in the Empire.” The priestess's hands were cold when they reached out to grip Nesta’s wrists. “To be offered the hand of the imperial household… it’s your final offering to the Empire. A marriage blessed by Vesta herself.” 

“But I need at least 30 years before I can leave my services..” Nesta tried to explain in a steady voice. If the High Priestess wasn’t gripping her wrists she would’ve been shaking.

“There is talk of mutiny within the senate. When the emperor came to our temple for advice, we offered a hand in marriage as a blessing to secure his position. His son remembered you from before,” Nesta grimaced “and wanted _you_ specifically.” 

The high priestess let go of Nesta’s hands and she felt blood rushing back to them. The high priestess turned to leave but looked back and said in a cold tone, “You have to accept Nesta. Or Eris will take one of your sisters in your place. You’ll have a month to journey to Rome, I’ll see you then Nesta.” She walked away, her white tunic capturing the sunlight as she left the temple. Nesta could only stare as her last words cut through her like glass. 

He would take one of her sisters instead. Feyre and Elain. Nesta turned towards the fire, her fists balled to keep from shaking. There was no choice. Was there ever a choice for her? For any of her sisters? They were placed, dumped, in the Vestal Virgin’s temple at such a young age to protect their father’s reputation after his trading company sunk. After 10 grueling and _cruel_ years of training, being exiled, Nesta should’ve known. 

Nothing was up to her. From the tunic she wore. the bed she slept on, the food she ate, the things she sacrificed, nothing was hers. 

* * *

She needed air. A place to breathe. If there was one thing she was grateful for it was the gardens. Unlike the ones in Rome, which Nesta could rarely visit, there was still a wild element to the untrimmed bushes and the towering heights of the cypress trees. The sun shone brightly and through the canopy cover where rays of light escaped. The ground was not paved with cobblestones, there was still grass and soil that gave Nesta comfort as she strolled through barefoot. 

Under the mulberry tree, she sat where the branches stretched far enough to provide her shade in the sun. She didn’t care if her tunic got dirty from the soil there was a ton more at the temple. Her veil was removed, she hated how stuffed and enclosed she felt in it. She wanted a fresh breeze on her face and to smell the growing variety of vegetation.

This was where she can be alone and the world wouldn’t burn if she spent a few minutes in idle. There wasn’t a mold she had to fit into. In Rome, there was order and structure to her life. So much rigidity that Nesta didn’t realize she was suffocating. Her life as a priestess was crafted to give her a future she had no choice in as a devoted wife to a man who only saw her as a prize. 

A small breeze passed through the garden, swaying the branches above her. A few mulberries dropped to the ground and scattered around her. Suddenly she remembered the tan skin and the defined lines of muscles. The eyes whose color was something Nesta had yet to see — brown but when the light shone on them, they were almost green. And the irksome grins and smirks he threw at her. Brute. A handsome brute. 

Nesta knew he was a highly ranked officer from the way his armor was bound together by leather, and the feathered helmet he carried the other day. He was not a centurion maybe not yet, but he was far too young. He didn’t carry himself like a nobleman, leading Nesta to believe he earned his rank. Maybe that’s why he’s so cocky because he knew he had the skills to back him up. 

She scoffed as she remembered the many times she caught him staring at her in the temple or how his breath seemed to stop when she applied the salve to his cheek. Maybe in another life, she could be the village girl who stole his heart and fed him mulberries in the garden. There wouldn’t be eyes that watched her or armbands that locked her in place. 

When she saw him the other day in the gardens he was sound asleep not one brow furrowed. His face was in pure bliss that even Nesta didn’t want to wake him so she simply went about her duties. But then he awoke, approached her and threw her his famous crooked smile that Nesta wanted to smother. And then that ugly gash caught her attention, something she didn't notice when he was sleeping. For some reason, Nesta hated seeing it on him so she offered her precious salve. 

“Yes priestess, we have a deal.” He was so close to her she could smell the sea salt from his skin. She noticed his hands were calloused from his training but also warm as she took the berries he offered. He continued to watch her as she ate them and in her inner depths, she loved the glint in his hazel eyes. 

A sharper wind cut through her thoughts. The gardens were quieter today and a bit darker. She sighed as she got up and mindlessly wiped off her already dirty tunic. There were still things to do in the temple.

* * *

Cassian grunted as he hit the ground. Rhysand was above him, sword already at his throat. “A week out and you’re already rusty?” 

Cassian swiped his sword away and took the hand Rhysand offered. His arm was a little sore but not painstakingly as it was before. He scoffed, “Alright the first pint of beer is on me.” 

“Only a pint?” Rhysand was grinning and he clasped his hand on Cassian’s back as they walked through the camp.

“ _Optiones_ . ” A rough voice boomed from behind them. Cassian immediately knew it was their _centurion,_ Devlon. He and Rhysand turned about-face and saluted him, the muscles beneath Cassian’s scar ached a bit. 

Devlon’s eyes scanned Cassian’s scar, raising an eyebrow. “How did it heal so fast? I thought I cut it pretty deeply.” His eyes glinted as if he remembered his blade slicing through Cassian’s flesh. The muscles in Cassian’s jaws clenched. 

“Takes the right salve and some time off to heal,” Cassian said sharply. 

Devlon stepped closer trying to let his bulky figure intimidate Cassian. He snarled, “Don’t get smart with me boy.” 

Rhysand, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. “Was there something you wanted to tell us?” 

Devlon straightened, backing away from Cassian but still close. “An order was received this morning, the emperor’s son is to be married.” Devlon spat on the ground and stood in front of them with hands on his hips. “They need escorts for his soon to be wife… so I’m sending my best _optiones_ ,”

Cassian fought the urge to look over at Rhysand and roll his eyes but he knew Rhysand feelings were mutual. Devlon was just doing this to show off to the Emperor his military officers that he supposedly trained. They were prizes to the Emperor as much as whoever this poor woman was. 

“The wife resides in this town?” Rhysand asked.

Devlon then turned to Cassian as he answered Rhysand. “She’s the Vestal Priestess.” Rhysand scoffed and almost laughed, “Ice priestess?” 

But Cassian wasn’t listening anymore, Devlon’s eyes once again flickered to his scar and grinned. He knew she gave him the salve and maybe that he had an affection for her. Devlon was sending him to torment him. _Did you really think anything would happen between the two? With you?_

“Fine.” Cassian said at last. 

“Well if Cassian’s going, I’ll go too.” Rhysand said.

Devlon laughed, “ _Optiones_ , you talk as if you had a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> optiones - plural for optio in latin: equivalent to an executive officer in the military. 
> 
> centurion - commander of a century


	4. Chapter 4

The fire crackled as Nesta stood before the hearth, its towering height loomed over her. Yet, Nesta was not afraid, ever since she was a little girl fire was always a source of light and warmth. But now, she couldn’t tell if Vesta blessed her with a grand fire over the news of her engagement or if she was telling her to run. 

But Nesta was angry and if her glare were ice, the fire would be extinguished and frozen into brilliant sculpture. 

It wasn’t long before she was in the gardens. The moonlight was the only thing that illuminated through the trees. Tonight would be her last night in these gardens, a place growing freely and wildly as it willed. The untouched soil underneath her feet was cool in the night. There were no birds to be heard leaving an eerie silence. Above her through the canopy, the moon was full and brighter than the stars in the sky. 

As she shifted through the trees towards the only clearing, there he was again, the soldier from before. He lied on his back, arms behind his head and eyes closed. In the moonlight, he was almost glowing. Perhaps he didn’t sense her there yet.

“Do you always wonder about this late at night, Priestess?” He cracked an eye open tilting his head to get a better look at her.

She narrowed her eyes as he slipped on a smug smile. “These are my gardens.”

He simply shrugged. “Anyone can climb those walls. I’d say it’s quite dangerous around here at night.” 

“I don’t see how my safety is your concern.”

He scoffed and sat up, looking straight at her. “You don’t think protecting a sacred priestess of the Empire is any of my concern?” 

She pointed her stare at him, “I would think conquests were of more importance.” 

His face faltered a bit at her words. “Conquests are orders of the Empire. But you priestess…” Nesta saw his gaze flicker to her face, his tone softened. “There are no greater treasures than someone blessed from the gods.” There was that glazed look again and it warmed something within Nesta. 

“Being blessed can sometimes be a curse.” Nesta countered a bit harshly as she sat beside him, all too aware of his gaze following her.

“Oh.. do you feel cursed, Priestess?” His voice was much closer than she was used to. The velvet of his voice sent a few chills down her spine. 

As she pondered his question her hands absentmindedly sifted through the grass beside her legs, accidentally grazing his thigh. Immediately she withdrew her hands into her lap. It was the slightest graze but he felt so warm. 

“Cursed? No… doomed? Yes.” She said as she clasped her palms in her lap.

He raised his eyebrows as she continued, “It’s the fates that have my yarn of destiny,” almost solemnly. 

“And you believe your destiny is doomed? Maintaining the gardens by the sea until you have a hand in marriage?” Cassian gaze broke hers as he gazed into the night sky where stars were scattered like paint plopped onto its surface. 

She huffed throwing an icy glare, “And what about you? Being sent across the seas, fighting the unknown until-“

“Until I meet my demise on foreign land? Forgotten to the sands of time?” He interjected. His gaze now on hers, an eyebrow raised. There was that spark between them again. 

“So we’re both doomed,” Nesta said as she held his gaze.

“Yes, we’re doomed, Priestess.” He gave her a toothy grin. She watched his gaze shift towards her silver armband. Underneath the moonlight, it was glittering. When his hazel eyes rose Nesta watched a flicker of emotion cross his face.

“Guess the fates decided your doom before mine.” 

Nesta’s jaw clenched and she snatched her gaze away but she could still feel his gaze on her. 

In the corner of her eye, she could see his right bicep where the gash once was. But now it was a mere scar, with no signs of infection at all. Instinctively she brought her hand to trace it gently. But Nesta heard his sharp intake of breath and pulled her hand away.

“It healed.” She said, almost not believing it herself. 

“The morning after I put it on.” He said, “I’m indebted to you Priestess.” She knew he was gazing at her, with those fiery eyes that stirred something in her but she couldn’t meet his gaze.

She shook her head. “I lied the other day,” her voice was low and took a handful of dark soil as if she needed something to grip on but it fell apart in her hands.

“The herbs didn’t come from the Eastern Plains. They came from the healers of the Germanic tribes up north.”

-

Cassian froze. She looked back once again at him, her eyes now a steely gaze. 

“Before the war, the healers of those tribes had an intricate network of distributing rare herbs throughout the Roman Empire,” she explained as she shifted her gaze to his scar.

“And then the Roman Legion wiped them out.” 

Cassian felt his stomach turn. He remembered the invasions of the Germanic tribes, it was one of his first deployments as part of the Legion. They outnumbered the tribes by far and easily found the flaws in their strategies, they conquered within a week. Afterward, the soldiers pillaged and burned down villages, it was a sight Cassian wanted to forget.

“All the networks fell apart,” her voice softer now. “that vial contained some of the last of their herbs.” 

“Why give it to me then?” He asked incredulously, the salve was something Cassian could never repay her.

There was no hesitation in her voice, “It’s my role as a priestess to the Roman Empire, to ensure blessings for its people, even the Legion.” 

“You would give this to any Legion soldier?” 

Now there was silence between them. Cassian looked at her as she stared far distances out into the night sky. She looked so fragile with her slender figure but he could feel her strength, her power from miles away. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” she spoke softly, finally looking at him. Cassian immediately felt a shift in the air, her gaze was intense on his. “You’re different from the rest.” 

“I’m just a measly bastard, priestess,” Cassian said disgruntledly. He was told he was different all his life but only in cruel ways. 

“You can’t possibly think that.” The priestess’ eyes narrowed.

He sighed as he turned to gaze at the empty and dark garden. “There’s an order to this empire, priestess. I’m just trying to make the best of it.” 

“Orders don’t always have to be followed.” 

“That’s how you get killed.”

“It’s how you evolve.” She countered. “You didn’t get to where you are by succumbing to what others thought of you.” 

Cassian didn’t know how it was possible for her to strip him down in a matter of seconds. He could feel his heart burning in her words. There was not one hint of disgust in them, but rather what she genuinely believed was the truth. 

“And what about you, Priestess? How will you evolve?” He asked softly. The silver armband flashed once more underneath the moonlight. He knew what it meant and there was a sudden urge to take the flimsy thing and throw it into the ocean. 

She sighed deeply, looking around her. “Do you know why I love this garden so much?”

When he said nothing she continued, “because even this garden can flourish within these walls. Even when I’m gone, their rain will fall from the sky and the sun will shine another day. It will still grow until these walls will perish.” 

-

“I feel sorry for whatever walls will surround you, Priestess.” He said with a smile on his face, no smugness, in his eyes were pure hope. Once again Nesta envied his easiness, his joy, his smile, his warmth in the cold night, his glowing skin under the moonlight. She stopped her thoughts as she felt a blush creep up her neck. 

And then for the first time in a while, her lips tugged up a bit. “Me too.” 

She heard his throat clear before he got up again, “It’s getting pretty late, Priestess, should I walk you back to the temple?” He extended a hand out towards her. She looked at his calloused palms and took them in hers. Her hands were so small compared to his and despite their warmth, she felt chills.

“That’s fine soldier, I can walk back on my own.” She turned towards the gates before he heard him once more.

“Cassian.” 

“Sorry?” Nesta called back.

“My name is Cassian, Priestess.” 

“Cassian…” She said, almost as if she was tasting a softly textured wine. “Until next time Cassian.” All Nesta knew she would never see the man again in her life. When she got to her bed, she wanted to dream of the simple life a boy like Cassian and a girl like Nesta could have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I’m so sorry this took a while to update and also I hope you all are healthy and keeping safe! x


	5. Chapter 5

Nesta looked at the dark and bulky man who was now bowing to her. Devlon, he introduced himself — the _centurion_ from the legions’ camp on the outskirts. She tried not to grimace as he threw her a sloppy grin as he rose again. 

“Priestess, what an honor it is to stand before you.” 

“Is that supposed to be my _carruca_?” Nesta flatly asked, walking past the man towards her carriage. The _carruca_ had an arched wooden rooftop, the exterior reflected colors of gold and red, the colors of the empire. On the inside there was enough space for at least four people, sitting comfortably in leather cushioned seats. She looked towards the front where two black horses with dark black manes intricately braided pulled the carriage. 

“This is one of the finest from our collection, reserved for members of the Senate, but you are a special exception.” Nesta tried to ignore the way her stomach turned as he lazily eyed her and only stiffened her back to face the _centurion_. 

“When do we leave?” 

“We? I’m not going with you, priestess.”

Nesta raised her eyebrows, “Then who is..?”

But she got her answer before _the centurion_ could speak.

Over the horizon she spotted him, it was always hard not to. His broad figure shone in the sunlight, forever a stark contrast to the white sands and it wasn’t long before his long legs reached them. And then he was before her, much different than she has seen him before. Now he stood in his armor, his shoulders straightened and the helmet on his head covered his wavy curls. She couldn’t see past his soldier demeanor to the boy who laid out on her garden floor soaking in the sun. His eyes were darker underneath his helmet and the sun didn’t shine bright enough to capture them. For some reason, Nesta felt very cold in the scorching heat. 

“These are my best _optiones_ Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve won countless battles for me so surely they can handle a trip to the capital. I’m sure your husband will be pleased to know you are under the very best protection.” 

_Your husband._

Nesta tried not to flinch. 

Devlon stood in front of what Nesta realized were two _optiones_. She didn’t notice the other male, lea, dark and muscular with eyes that almost looked like amethyst crystals. “Priestess, it's an honor to accompany you. I’m Rhysand.” He bowed slightly. Nesta tried not to wince at the gesture but gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Yes, it’s an honor Priestess.” Nesta almost did not recognize his voice.

“Cassian.” She said voicing her thoughts and froze when their eyes met but she quickly regained her posture. Nesta straightened her back, lifted her chin and turned away from Cassian. Devlon was watching the exchange carefully.

“Is this it? Just two?” She said trying hard not to sound annoyed but her tone was completely the opposite.

Devlon’s face turned sour, astounded that she spoke so frankly with him. Nesta knew men like him all her life, she was forced to give them blessings from Vestía. They thought the world should be given to them at the hands of pretty women. Nesta hated it, every one of them.

“I’ll have you know, Priestess that these men have been trained specifically by me so I’m sure they’ll be just right to your new husband.” Devlon had a wicked gleam in his eyes. His last words came out in an almost sneering tone.

Before she could lash out on him Rhysand stepped up. “Very well. We should probably get going so we can reach our destination by dawn.” He reached for her one case of clothes on the ground and lifted them into the _carruca_. Devlon only grunted a goodbye before disappearing from her sight.

“He’s not really great with women,” Cassian said from behind her. She whirled around to face him now pulling off his helmet freeing his wonderful brown locks in the sun. Nesta tried not to stare as he ran his fingers through it. As if she didn’t dream of doing the same thing last night.

“He’s not the only one _optione_. Aren’t you going to help Rhysand?” She tried to look away from him, hoping to squander any thought of rebuttal from him. 

Cassian bit his inner cheek but went to lift her bags into the carriage. Rhysand threw them a curious look, maybe he sensed the same atmosphere that she thought felt suffocating.

-

He saw the stare that Rhys threw him, almost quizzical but Cassian ignored it. Of course, Rhys didn't know of all his garden rendezvous with the priestess. Or that the conversation they had last night was running through his head on repeat. Cassian simply shrugged one of the cases on his shoulder to load into the carriage. _You’re different from the rest._

“I can take the reins until sundown tonight, we should be able to make it to Helion by then,” Rhysand told him as he climbed behind the two great stallions. Cassian still caught his smirk as he looked over to where the priestess was climbing into the carriage. “You get to babysit,” Rhysand said almost too cruelly. 

“How generous of you,” Cassian tried to sound sarcastic. Rhy’s smirk grew as Cassian’s lips twitched. Rhys pretended not to see the obscene gesture Cassian threw at him. 

The priestess said nothing as he climbed aboard and sat across from her. Her steel-grey eyes failed to meet his, but that didn't stop Cassian from admiring her beauty once more. It was almost painful to see her pale skin glow off the midday’s sun. He wished she'd let her hair down so he could see the slightly orange hues when it hit the sunlight. Instead, it was tied up and hidden underneath a white veil. 

“I’m not the enemy you should be looking out for, optione.” She said with an icy tone. Her eyes now bore deep holes into his. 

“Trust me if anything can cut men down it’s that tongue of yours, Priestess.” 

He loved watching her fluster, watching her brows furrow, and sometimes a blush would creep up her neck right before she’d regain that stoic posture. Cassian knew the words she’d say next to him would slice him. It was like the calm before the storm.

“Would you like to end up like them Cassian?” His name falling off the tip of her tongue felt like audial velvet.

Now it was her turn to watch him fluster. He swallowed and looked away but could still feel her stare. _I’d let your tongue do anything to me_. But Cassian knew better not to voice that thought. He watched as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the window frame, a slight smile on her face. 

Before long the sun was setting, Cassian found it hard to tear his gaze away from the asleep priestess. Her slightly slumped posture, softened features, the slow and steady breaths indicated she was fast asleep, But Cassian had his duty, and his eyes continued to dart outside looking for any sign of trouble. 

Rhysand pulled in front of a private hostel where servants waited for them. Cassian stepped out of the carriage just as the priestess arose from her sleep. She readjusted her veil before gracefully stepping out, ignoring his offered hand to help her down. 

My, aren’t you a magnificent sight. Eris may have no eyebrows but he does have taste.” 

Cassian snapped his gaze towards the voice, and immediately recognized Aelius Helion, the owner of Rome’s most luxurious private _mansios_. The business gained him notorious reputation among the elite which also granted the privilege of people looking away from who and how many he bedded. His wide beamed smile and offered hand, however, were objectively ignored by the priestess, not even glancing at him. Helion blinked as if a ghost just walked through him. Cassian did his best not to crack a smile. 

“This is where I will be staying?” She deadpanned looking towards the grand structure whose arched entryway exposed the vibrant greens of the courtyard, the silks and velvets of the decor, and the massive statues of the gods in crystalline limestone. 

“It’s no temple priestess, trust me on that,” Helion winked and Cassian knew the priestess struggled not to roll her eyes. “Nevertheless, it has housed emperors and senators for years now. Servants for your every need, and I mean _any need_.” He was trying to get a reaction out of her stone face, but she never wavered.

“I assume these _optiones_ will be in the room next to mine?” Her voice was like a sharp fresh breeze on a summer’s day, ignoring his previous comment.

Helion, now fully recovered from her icy demeanor, looked _intrigued_. “We can arrange that, of course, priestess. Although guards usually stay, erm, on duty for the night.” 

“They need rest.” She looked over to Cassian very quickly, but it was enough for Helion whose cat-like eyes wandered to him too. Cassian found it best now to help Rhysand unload her cases, avoiding their looks. 

“Don’t worry I'll take care of your boys, priestess. I’ll see you for dinner tonight?”

“Send it to my room instead.” She smiled sweetly, not an ounce of verity in it, and left to let the servants lead her to her room. 

Helion blew out a breath Cassian was familiar in holding himself. “Now why did Devlon send his two best _optiones_ with ice priestess?” He asked, head cocking slightly towards Rhysand. 

Rhysand only shrugged, “He thinks it’ll grant him more favor with the Emperor if he provided the best protection for her.”

“She must be a very special bride. I heard Eris asked for her especially even after her little incident.” Helion chuckled but stopped when he saw the confused expression on the _optiones_. Rhysand raised his eyebrows, “Incident?” He looked over to Cassian who only shook his head, he didn't have any idea what Helion was talking about nor did he want any part of this conversation. 

Helion diverted his gaze to Cassian’s uncomfortable stance, “Devlon didn’t tell you? The girl not only signed off Eris’ eyebrows but burned and scarred three of his guards.” 

Rhysand scoffed, “Alright stop telling tales Helion,” 

“I’m serious, I have reliable sources.” Helion’s eyes hardened and his smile vanished.

Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Enough of this. Where do we put the carriage?” He growled slightly. Helion raised his hands in defense and ushered a servant towards them to show them the way. 

-

“Wow, only one bed,” Rhysand said with a smirk on his face as they entered their room right across from the priestess. As Rhysand said, there was only one giant bed wrapped in silk covers. Cassian rolled his eyes as he threw his sack on the floor, “we’ll be switching patrol tonight anyways. Otherwise, you sleep on the floor.” 

“After a whole day out in the sun while you got shade in that fancy carriage? No way.” Rhysand plopped on the bed with arms behind his head, Cassian could almost seem him sinking into it. “I think this mattress is stuffed with feathers.” He said with a smile on his face. 

“What was that by the way today?” Rhysand said with his eyes still closed. 

“What was what?” 

Rhysand sat up from the bed and threw a skeptical look at him. “Her knowing your name and stealing glances at you, you genuinely _talking_ to her, and then snapping at Helion.” 

“Helion talks too much.”

“About the priestess? Why would you care so much?”

Cassian sighed. He lifted the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the scar on his bicep. “She gave me a salve to heal this wound. There’s much more to her than being an _ice priestess_.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed, “What kind of salve would heal that so quickly?”

When Cassian said nothing Rhysands jaw tightened, “Are you really not going to answer me?”

“The Germanic tribes,” when Rhysand stiffened Cassian continued quickly, “it was through a network already established before the war.” 

“You don’t know what was in that salve she could’ve..”

“She could’ve what?” Cassian repeated, daring him to finish that thought. Rhysand just continued to stare at him, “You don’t have feelings for her right?” 

“Of course not,” Cassian said quickly and steadily even though his heart was racing. Rhysand didn’t look convinced. Cassian dragged his hand over his face and sighed. “I’ll take the first watch, you should rest for now Rhys.” He shut the door behind him without waiting for his response.


	6. Chapter 6

_“Wake up, Nesta!” The voice of her sister Elain rang loudly through her ears. It was too early for this. Nesta groggily awoke to see Elain’s wide eyes, excitement swirling in them. Outside, Nesta could hear the commotion of the priestess’ hall._

_“What's going on?” Nesta asked, still tired from the sudden awakening._

_Elain only smiled as she sat at the room’s vanity, combing her hair with a delicate wooden brush. The soft auburn curls smoothing out and gathering a healthy glow are the sunlight poured through the windows. “The emperor and his son are coming! Everyone’s excited to see if they’re looking for a bride.”_

_At this news, Nesta wanted to go back to bed. There's no way she wanted to do a ritual today, she had too many chores to do. They will pile up tomorrow if she was busy with a ritual all day. “How long will this take?”_

_Elain smiled sweetly at Nesta almost teasingly, “You’re saying you wouldn't want to be a bride to the future emperor?”_

_“Rome is a Republic, Eris isn’t guaranteed to be Emperor just because of who his father is.” Nesta began to lay back in bed and pull up her covers but they were swiftly yanked back by Elain who gave her a stern look, her facial features hardening. “Nesta you can’t run away from this forever, if anything you’ll be the first to…”_

_“Be sold off like a prized horse?” Feyre’s gentle voice came from the room’s entrance. She was already adorned in her flowing white robes.Her golden brown hair veiled and tied up tightly. She strode towards the foot of her bed, arms crossing and a slender eyebrow raised._

_“Exactly baby sister.” Nesta said grimly as she peeled herself from bed and chucked on white robes. Feyre scoffed and sat on her bed as she watched Nesta begin to work her fingers through her hair. “This is our life now Nesta.” Feyre said quietly even Elain avoided Nesta’s gaze. “If the emperor offered his son’s hands to any of us, we would be set for life. Father’s debt..”_

_“Do not mention him.” Nesta seethed over her shoulder. Feyre’s lips tightened before she rose from the bed and helped her stick pins in her hair. “I’m sorry Nesta, but it would be a good thing. For us.”_

_Nesta sighed as Feyre helped her finish pinning her veil to her hair. “I know Feyre. I know.”_

* * *

_The temple’s fire blazed fiercely in the center of Vesta’s altar. Before the flame stood the High Priestess, her veil and dress, made of the finest silk, reflected the fiery hues. As Nesta entered the room she was wary of the way the High Priestess eyed her, giving her a vague smile from beneath her veil._

_“Nesta, we were just waiting for you.” Her voice boomed through the altar. Next to her stood Eris, his vibrant red hair eerily similar to the flame before them and the Emperor himself, curiously studying Nesta. He smiled wickedly at her, eyeing her up and down. It made her stomach turn._

_Beside her stood Feyre and Elain who were bowing to them. Feyre slightly nudged Nesta forward. “Yes, high priestess, I’ll serve you any way I can.” She bowed to her as well. When she rose the High Priestesses' grin widened. “You will maintain the fire during the ritual blessing.” Nesta swallowed but nodded and accepted._

_All the priestesses circled around the flame, as Eris and his guards ventured towards the center. Nesta watched the flame flicker and spatter, a grand warmth flooding over her._

_“Let us begin this blessing.” The High Priestess gestured towards a slaughtered goat as an offering. The animal fueled the fire, increasing its height as the room flooded with scorching heat. Eris stumbled back but Nesta stood her ground. This is when she felt the power of Vesta herself, let the flame flood through her pores, throughout her body, and fill her with eternal bliss._

_“Our Goddess Vesta, may she give our young Eris a life of success, and blessings. May she watch over him in these coming days..” The high priestess began her chants raising her hands to the sky, the rest of the priestesses followed suit. Nesta maintained the fire steady for it to not sputter and flicker madly in various directions. She waved a fan to calm its wild directionality, almost in a trance, knowing where the fire would fluctuate._

_“...May Eris maintain the peace of our Empire”_

_And then Nesta’s vision went white, blinding her momentarily. She stumbled back as visions filled her head. Blood curdling screams rang through her ears, crying out for help. She fell to her knees as her head flooding with images of slaughter, blood splattered, children falling to their deaths. A dark haired warrior broken and beaten on the temple’s steps. Their blood pooling in a golden cup from which Eris drank from._

_“Nesta!” The High Priestess yelled through the dizziness as her vision began to clear. Nesta gasped as she felt the once blissful warmth in her veins boil her blood. It was burning her from the inside out, she wanted it out of her, she couldn’t handle it anymore. She cried out before the flame ruptured and Eris screamed. His guards shouted in pain, as they lunged for him. But that's when the whole world went dark for Nesta as she fell back._

Nesta gasped, sitting up quickly from her bed. Her whole body was shaking and she was drenched in sweat. A nightmare. No, it was a memory from that day.

She felt sick suddenly and got up to bathe herself of the sweat and memories.

* * *

When Cassian arrived at her room, her door was shut firmly. He tried to concentrate, keeping a uniform stance as he stood guard. But Rhys’ voice kept going through his head.

_Do you have feelings for her?_

No. He couldn’t. She’s a Vestal Virgin, a sacred priestess, she would never look at him as anything more than a foot soldier, a lowly bas-

_You can’t possibly think that._

The weight of his armor suddenly felt uncomfortable around his shoulders. Cassian wanted to forget her words and forget that night in the moonlight, it would be easier this way. There should always be a barrier between them, she’s engaged… to the emperor’s son. These feelings, its infatuation. He’ll get over it, he has to.

“ _Optione_?” A small voice called out. Cassian looked down to see a small boy in servant's clothing holding a plate of hot and steamy food. His eyes widened as he took in Cassian, his hands tightly clenched around the serving plate.

“You’re…. the Lord of Bloodshed. From the Germanic campaigns.” He breathed.

Cassian bristled, “How do you know that?”

“My brother served with you,” The boy said softly. Cassian tried to observe his features; light brown hair, pale skin, brown eyes. His brother could’ve been any one of the hundreds that flickered through those fields.

“He came back to tell everyone the killing field you plowed through.” Cassian shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know the extent of what they told of him in the lands of the Empire. But he wouldn’t doubt it was anything short of a nightmare.

“That was a long time ago. The war is over now.” Cassian said harshly. This boy knew what he did in the fields, which is why he shook with fear before him now.

Suddenly the door opened and a scent of lilacs and roses hit him in the gut. “I was beginning to wonder if Helion would let me starve.” Cassian straightened as the priestess glided from behind him like a silky white shadow. The boy stepped away from Cassian all too quickly, and bowed towards her. 

“I see Helion provided me with a splendid meal.” She grabbed the plate into her hands. “Thank you, you’re dismissed.” She said to the servant who obediently bowed and left, perhaps glad to be far away from Cassian.

As she went back to her room,Cassian could smell the richness of the mutton. His stomach involuntarily growled at the scent. She stopped in her tracks.

“Have you not eaten, _optione_?” Her voice was like a sliver around his ears.

“I will after my shift.” He said firmly.

She sighed as she observed his all too stiff stance. “Come in and eat.”

“I don’t think that's a good idea.”

She raised her eyebrows, “I’m not inviting you into my bed optione... I want you to eat so you don't pass out while trying to guard my door.”

“I'm fine, priestess. I've endured worse.” He had, but her stare was like a thousand swords twisting in his chest.

“Cassian.” She said exasperated. His jaw tightened, wishing his name out of her mouth wasn't so enticing, enchanting. “Please, just eat something. And then I’ll stop bothering you.”

He looked around the halls as if expecting someone watching them. He gave in, because he knew it was impossible not to… especially with her.

“Very well.”

* * *

They entered her room and he was drowning in her scent. The door to her private bath was slightly ajar. She must’ve taken her bath recently. He tried to not let his mind wander from that thought.

She set the food on a small table that overlooked a giant glass window. He could see the surrounding green hills of the _mansio_. The priestess gestured to a chair across from her. “Come. Eat.”

He walked cautiously towards her who was already cutting him a slice off her mutton, and shoved the plate towards him, her meal split even in half. When he hesitated to eat she spoke up, “I’m not that hungry anyway,” she muttered.

He grimaced, “You should eat.”

“I will eat after you.”

After taking a quick bite of the mutton he got up.“I’m done, I should go back to my post.”

“You barely ate anything.” Her glare stopped him.

Cassian sighed. “This is your food, priestess. I shouldn’t even be in here.”

The priestess ignored him. “Do you drink wine?” Cassian watched as she grabbed a nearby wine bottle.

“Not on duty.” This time his tone was firm, and the priestess only nodded. She poured a drink for herself. She took a sip, almost savoring it. “That boy… he called you the Lord of Bloodshed.” He stopped in his tracks.

“It’s not a title I’m proud of.” He muttered. Cassian looked up to see she stood in his pathway towards the door. Leaning against the wall, she balanced her wine in one hand. She looked up to him, taking him in as her eyes drifted over his form, over the armor he wore. Perhaps trying to look right through it.

“From what I heard, the field you left was stained blood red.” She whispered. He only closed his eyes, trying to keep out the shame, the guilt. He can picture every face of the life he took, every brother he lost along the way.

He was deep into these memories when suddenly he felt a hand on his wrist. Her small soft fingers ignited a fire underneath his skin, but it brought instant warmth to him.

“I’m sorry.” She swallowed. “I didn’t mean for that to bring you any...” She stopped briefly, “back in Rome, high officers would come to the altar and would want mind cleansing rituals.”

“Mind cleansing?”

“To heal the mind of painful… memories.”

Cassian swallowed trying to suppress the images that flooded his mind, “and do they work?”

Her fingers slipped from his wrist, too quickly for him. “The mind is a tricky place, even Vesta can’t heal such horrors.” She was standing so close to him now. “But I could arrange for my sisters to perform the same ritual… for you.”

For him. The air around him was thinning.

“The things I’ve done, Priestess. I don’t know if I really deserv-”

Her hand suddenly gripped his, almost sensing his rise in panic. “You’re a brave soldier.” She was firm in her tone. “From what I heard, the Lord of Bloodshed did everything he could to save his comrades. You should be proud of that.” She said gentler, her voice a soft melody to his ears.

“Would you do this for any legion soldier?”

“I’ve told you before, Cassian. You’re not like the rest.”

He looked up to her, her eyes reminded him of the ocean now, of the sea by his home calling to him. There was a tendril of hair that escaped from her tied crown hair, brushing her cheek lightly. Before he knew it, Cassian slid his fingers across her cheek and pushed it behind her ear. The movement was short, but it lasted forever. 

She was looking up towards him now, her deep grey-blue eyes shone in the candlelight. He didn't even notice the sun went down, he wasn't aware of anything but her at the moment. Cassian trailed his fingers back over the sharp curve of her cheekbone to gently grasp her chin. Her lips full, slightly stained from the wine that gave them an even more luscious red tint.

“Nesta.” She breathed.

His heart started racing as he stared down at her, a blush rising over her carved features. “Is that your name?”

“Yes.”

“Nesta.” He whispered like it was a sacred prayer. Nesta’s eyes fluttered when he spoke her name, her lips parting. Now he couldn't resist closing the gap between them. His lips lightly brushed hers for an instance. A thousand lightning bolts shot through him but they extinguished when he heard shifting at her door.

The sharp knock made them quickly pull apart.

“Priestess?” It was Rhysand. Immediately he straightened up. He couldn’t let Rhysand see him like this in here, along with the Priestess, with Nesta.

He opened the door to find Rhysand standing there, ready for duty. “Rhysand. I was about to wake you for your shift.” His voice clearing, trying to stop his head from spinning. Rhysand only gave him raised eyebrows and tried to peer over his shoulders. _What were you doing there?_ He silently asked.

“I thought it might be a good idea to do a final sweep of the room before I went to bed,” Nesta said in a clear tone. He didn't turn around, trying to recover from the fact that she lied for him.

Rhysand only nodded and stepped out of Cassian’s way for him to return to their room. But he wanted to see her one last time, he couldn't resist. Cassian did a bow towards Nesta, briefly catching her eyes before out the door.

Rhysand closed the door behind him. “I take it there’s no potential danger?” He asked skeptically.

“No, of course not.” Cassian replied probably too sharply.

Rhysand ignored his tone. “You’re gonna need a good rest before tomorrow Cassian.”

He sensed the uneasiness in Rhysand. “And why’s that?”

Rhysand looked around and lowered his voice. “There's... some reports of thieves on the roads we will be taking tomorrow. I’m sure in the worst case scenario, we could take care of it. But you'll be upfront so I want extra attentiveness.”

“Thieves? I thought the roads we took are only taken by senators?” Cassian knew how private and secluded the roads were, few knew they even existed.

“There may have been a leak somewhere or maybe they got lucky and stumbled upon them. I don’t know, but we need to be on guard tomorrow. And _focused_ on what our duties are.” He enunciated the last part. Cassian only nodded but he can still feel the softness of her skin underneath his fingers. _You’re not like the rest._

“Cassian.” Rhysand said, pulling Cassian out of his own head. 

“No, you’re right Rhysand. I promise I’ll be focused.”


	7. Chapter 7

Cassian's heart pounded as he lied awake in bed. Whenever he closed his eyes, he remembered how soft her lips felt, even in those swift seconds. Or how the pull between them was so strong that he didn’t know how to break it. He didn't want to break it, he wanted to capture her lips, caress her cheeks, press every inch of her into him. Feel her, breathe her. _Gods._ He was in so deep. **  
**

He’s been with numerous women over the years. But none have captured him like Nesta. She was a blinding ray of light through a thunderstorm.

Nesta, her name is Nesta. 

He wanted to say her name a thousand times until it drove him mad and he was sure it would.

Cassian closed his eyes, desperately trying to let sleep overcome him.

* * *

The first thing he noticed was the bone-chilling cold that seeped through his skin. He recognized this feeling, only having felt this stinging cold during the Germanic campaigns. The northern tribes drove them into the treacherous forests with mountains touching the heavens surrounding them.

But he was not in the mountains. Looking around at the empty streets, the empty vendor stalls, a loud wind sweeping through the empty buildings all clustered together. No, he was in Rome. 

The silence was deafening as he walked through the moonlit bare streets. No one was seen. Just the cold making him shiver with every step. His breath was visible with every shaky exhale.

This was wrong. Rome was the center of everything-- all roads lead here. But now it was silent, like something wiped out the city in its peak. His feet, he realized, crunched above a thin layer of snow on the ground. 

He spent the next ten minutes searching around the empty city. Nothing. Not a living thing was to be seen. 

But somehow he knew where to go like something was pulling him into its direction. 

Vesta's Temple, except in all the years he’s seen it, there was no sound of flickering flames. The circular building almost glittered like silver under the moon. Dolomite columns wrapped around, towering above Cassian as he stepped closer. 

He descended carefully into the temple, before long he could hear faint footsteps. "Is anyone here?" His voice echoed throughout the halls. When he turned back to the rounded pavilion, there stood a cloaked figure. 

“Hello?” He questioned but the cloaked figure didn’t budge. Cassian cautiously walked closer, feeling a familiar pull in the direction. It was almost as if his feet were levitating towards the figure. And when Cassian was right behind them, he knew who would turn around.

But this wasn’t Nesta. 

In all physical appearance, it would be Nesta but her eyes were glowing deep purple like an ancient flame waiting to burst from within. And when it spoke it was not the soft melody he knew, it was full of sad anger.

 _Look what he has done._ Cassian felt a deep shiver run down his spine as she spoke. _Don’t let him take her. He will use her. The fall of Rome is his doing along with the fall of the gods._

"What? I don’t understand..." There was a shift in the atmosphere. The cold was now a growing fire within his skin. 

_Don’t be afraid of her strength-- it is not fire it is her warmth. Embrace it warrior, for she will rise anew in flames of gold. It’s time for a new era_. 

With that, she vanished in an intense flame, and Cassian awoke.

—

Nesta watched from her carriage as Rhysand and Helion exchanged pleasant goodbyes. Or what she thought were pleasant goodbyes. Helion, the ever playful and seductive host, was tense, his posture rigid. Rhysand didn't look any better. She watched as Helion's eyes drifted to her once again like he was studying her more than just a future bride. Nesta realized he was trying to see what the Emperor wanted to see in her. She wanted to tell him nothing lurked inside her except maybe a calm rage and very confusing thoughts. He looked back at Rhysand and nodded tersely before walking away. 

She didn’t question what Rhysand spoke to Helion about. Though if it included her she supposed she should

But she was distracted as Cassian came into her view. Memories of last night replayed in her mind endlessly throughout her dreams. In some cases, they were never interrupted and she got lost in the way his hands explored her in every way. 

He turned to face her through her glass windows. She swallowed, eyeing his hesitant step towards her. 

She wouldn’t know what to say to him, about her confessing her name to him. It’s rare for anyone outside the Temple to know a priestess’ name. It is one of their bindings to their true selves, a reminder that they are human. 

As if on queue, she could picture the head priestess standing before her now. Her fiery auburn hair blocked from the sun in her white veil. _Nesta was momentarily taken back to when they were walking to the Vestas’s temple in Rome from gathering herbs from a nearby garden. On each side of them, stood 2 Roman guards._

_She never got to walk through the streets of Rome, usually, it was veiled to her as she was carried in on a litter. From the corner of her eye, she could see the head priestess’ nose scrunch up in disgust as they walked through town._

_Nesta took in the kaleidoscope of colors from the different fruits and vegetables on the vendor stalls. The streets of Rome is a lively place, and Nesta hasn’t heard this much laughter since she was small. Children playing along in the streets, racing each other through the markets. Women chatter among themselves as they eye the various offerings. Merchants and vendors calling out their specialties of the day._

_It wasn’t until Nesta felt a brush on her shoulder where time stood still. In a moment the cold hands of the head priestess seized her, pulling her tightly close as she watched the guards slam into a middle-aged man. Their hands holding his face to the ground. All sounds in the street died as they looked towards the scene._

_“How dare you touch a priestess so freely.” She heard the head priestess' deadly tone from behind her._

_The man had pure fear in his eyes, they were darting between the guards and her. “Please it was a misunderstanding I was just offering her-“_

_The head priestess spat in his face. “You can offer nothing to her. Guards give him 20 lashings.”_

_Nesta gasped and jerked out of the head priestess’ grasp. “No please, he didn’t mean it.” She pleaded but the head priestess ignored her and only nodded to the guards who raised their whips._

_When Nesta ran to intercept, she was jerked back and her face raised towards the head priestess in a tight grip._

_“You are to be pure in all aspects. Untouched, unspoken, unreachable by the commoners. You may all have the same blood but, my dear, you will never be like them.” Her words resonated through Nesta, blocking out the sounds of the man crying out in pain._

Her memory faded as she watched Rhysand interject Cassian, saying something to steer him away from her. Nesta fought the dejected feeling at the bottom of her stomach and gathered her senses before Rhysand climbed into the carriage.

-

The ride with Rhysand was a little uncomfortable. She noticed that he stared at her, studying her eyes like he knew her from somewhere. But Nesta has never seen this man since before that day on the beach. When she turned her head away from the window to catch him, he swiftly looked away.

“Is something wrong _optione_?” She asked, slightly starling him. 

He cleared his throat “No priestess, I just thought... uh never mind.” She raised her eyebrows, surprised Rhysand stuttered.

“Do I remind you of someone?” 

She could see Rhysand visibly swallow and he only nodded. Whoever she reminded him of left swirling emotions in his eyes, anger but mostly sadness. She didn’t press on about it.

The day dragged on as the roads led into dense forests. The blurring greens of her window seemed to repeat itself. 

All of a sudden there was a jolt in the carriage, Rhysand looked tenser than before. He knocked on the carriage and a subsequent tapping from the other side must’ve meant Cassian was fine, _we’re fine_.

But then the carriage slowed down, Nesta tried to look ahead through her window and her eyes widening at the sight of another carriage, abandoned with visible blood stains from the outside. Rhysand saw the same thing and pounded against the carriage, almost yelling, “Cassian! Go, now!” But there was intense shuffling from outside, and Nesta heard the unsheathing of Cassian's sword.

“Priestess we have to get down now,” Rhysand said in a firm tone. Nesta caught a glimpse of Cassian being thrown on the ground outside but he quickly got up, blocking her window from the outside. Her shoulders were gripped by Rhysand from behind before being pulled to the floor, covering her mouth with a finger to his mouth. _Shhh_. 

“Five against one? That’s hardly fair…” Cassian said smugly. Nesta’s breath hitched, he must be surrounded and trapped. When Rhysand saw her panicked face he only mouthed, _He can handle this_.

“Where’s the priestess?” One of the voices said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m delivering wine.”

“The Lord of Bloodshed is transporting wine in a senatorial carruca?” Another voice sneered, “we’re not fools you bastard.” He spat out the last word, she even saw Rhysand visibly tense.

“It’s very special wine.” Cassian retorted Nesta could hear his tone shift. “Now I can let you go or you can stay to see how sharp my sword is.” He said sternly. She imagined they were circling him now. 

Her heart was racing, she desperately wanted to look out but Rhysand would probably tackle her. He unlocked the doors on the other side and carefully opened it, gesturing towards it and reached out for her. She ignored it. _Go help him_ she mouthed. His lips turned to a firm line. 

However, a hooded figure appeared behind him, sword drawn already in the air for a blow to the _optione_. Rhysand sensed them before they could strike and with the quickest reflex, clashed against the figure with a distinct _clink_. He stood and pushed the hooded figure back with his sword who fell right onto his back. 

This time he didn’t wait for Nesta’s permission as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the carriage. 

“The priestess! He has her!” The man yelled. 

Rhysand tried to drag her to the cover of the forest but a dozen men shrouded in dark clothing surrounded them. He shielded her with his sword drawn out, trying to swat away anyone who came near them. “Don’t you dare come closer.” He said through gritted teeth.

But he failed to grab her quickly enough before a pair of rough hands grabbed her from behind, pulling her away. Rhysand tried to get to her but the other men enclosed him like a pack of wolves. 

The arm tightened around her waist, locking her arms and another around her shoulders. His greasy voice sent a shiver down her spine, “Stop squirming girl, or I’ll be forced to violate my contract.” _Contract?_ And then Nesta watched how the men moved, how particular their swords were made of iron and bronze. These were more than petty thieves…

“You’ll be cursed for harming an unarmed Priestess.” She sneered over her shoulder catching the horrible glint in the man’s eye. 

Rhysand tried to fend off the men, swirling about clashing with the swords but she was helpless as she watched one of them slashed across his thigh. His face retorted slightly with pain but he didn’t cry out. He grunted and pushed through the strings of attack.

“Stop it!” She screamed over her shoulder, but the man only smiled in delight as Rhysand struggled hopelessly outnumbered, Cassian nowhere in sight. Her blood started to boil, all her senses were heightened. Her heart was racing like thousands of horses on a battlefield. Without thinking, she swiftly knocked her head back where it made contact with the man who yelled out, “Bitch!” the arm around her waist loosened. She gained control of her arms again and tried to yank his other arm from around her shoulder. Her vision was blurring, but all she could focus on was the color of blood. The merchant crying out in pain, the screams in her visions, her dreams. 

Nesta gripped the forearms of the man until he gasped and yelled. “Agh!” The man behind her screamed, pushing her on the ground before he stumbled back. 

Then she felt Cassian before she saw him, moving like the wind right past her. A quick movement of his sword and Nesta knew the man was dead when he hit the ground beside her, his eyes lifeless.

Cassian knelt in front of her and she could see the blood that stained his armor. She knew it wasn’t his. His eyes blazed fire but it withered when he caught sight of her. Nesta was filled instantly with warmth and her heart calming itself. He reached out to see if she was wounded but she held out a hand to stop him.

“I’m fine. Go help Rhysand.” She whispered, her skin still felt hot.

“I already did.” He said lowly, and Nesta looked over her shoulder to see all the men slumped, dead. It must have been a dozen men... _when did he_ -

Rhysand limped towards them. And came to a sudden stop when he looked at the man who held her captive. 

“How did that happen?” 

Cassian was looking at Nesta and she realized he never stopped looking at her. Something else flickered in his gaze. But he responded, “I don’t know.” 

Nesta realized they weren’t talking about the attack but the man lying dead beside her. She looked at his corpse and gasped. His arms were the color of dark ash, the upper portions pink as his raw flesh was exposed. 

“We have to leave quickly,” Rhysand said not taking his eyes off the corpse. Nesta sat on the ground in shock and continued to stare at the man.

“They cut the horses loose,” Cassian said and probably gestured towards the horseless carriage. “We’re stranded.” 

“We need to get moving before they send any more assassins.”

Assassins. Nesta let the word sink into her head. “They didn’t want to hurt me.” She said, catching the attention of Cassian and Rhysand.

“What do you mean priestess?” Cassian asked, his tone was so soft. He didn’t call her Nesta. Rhysand was here but it still felt unnatural to hear from his lips.

“This man,” Nesta looked at the dark arms so charred, “he said he couldn’t hurt me because of his contract.”

Cassian's jaw tightened and he looked over to Rhysand. “We’re in Capua, do you think-“

“Yes the cottage is nearby, but we can’t stay there for long,” Rhysand grunted as he tried to move a bit. “It’ll be a good place to rest and make sense of…” he trailed off looking at Nesta still in shock.

“Right. Let’s go.” Cassian said rising from the floor when he offered a hand to her she refused and stood on shaky legs.

—-

Rhysand didn’t know what to think. The man's arms were almost charred black with distinct handprints on either side of his arms. When Rhysand touched his skin it was still burning as if he was dwindling tinder in a fire. He watched as the priestess walked ahead of him through the forests and only had one chilling thought.

The prophecy was true.


End file.
